Journey To A Brave, New World
by stephaniereneecollier
Summary: After Claire jumps from the ferris wheel, the specials are rounded up and put into a facility on order of the president. When Claire find unexpected friendship in an old enemy, will they be able to escape and save the others? Or will everything come crashing down? R&R! *Will update whenever possible! (Also rated M for violence and swearing.)
1. Prologue: Murderers

Prologue

"Am I dead?"

The woman shot her a confused look.

"Excuse me?"

"Am I dead?"

She repeated.

"Is this hell?"

"Of course you're not dead!"

She chirped.

"Then why am I here?"

"Because the government wants to keep you safe!"

Claire rolled her eyes wearily.

She'd been kept in this facility for over a year now, not allowed to have contact with the outside world. They kept all the specials here. After she jumped off the Ferris wheel, the president had a break down and ordered that they were all rounded up and locked away. Of course, then all the families that held specials protested in the streets, and actually fought back. But this led to chaos, complete and udder chaos. People that harbored specials were shot. And then the person they were hiding came here; Claire wasn't exactly sure where here _was_, but she knew it was somewhere in the United States.

"When can I go home?"

That question had haunted her ever since she arrived.

Was she ever going to go back? Or was she to stay locked up here for all eternity?

"You can't do that dear."

She said.

"Why not? I never did anything wrong. I didn't ask for my power."

Her voice was dry and cracked, just a broken whisper.

"Oh, we know that!"

Her cheerfulness angered Claire.

"But the president wants you here."

"Does he want me to be experimented on, too? Like some damned wild animal?"

"Claire! You know swearing's not tolerated here!"

"No I don't."

She replied blankly.

"You won't tell me anything. I don't even know if my family's alive."

"It doesn't matter anymore, dear."

"It matters to me."

Claire had gone nearly the entire time she was here without talking. And when she did, all she said was:

Why am I here?

And they all answered the same way—because the president said so. Like he knew anything.

"Oh, look at that!"

The woman exclaimed, pointing to her watch.

"Time for your medicine!"

"Don't you mean drugs?"

"No, _medicine._"

She used the voice an adult used with small children.

"I'm not sick. I can't get sick. I can't die."

"Yes, we know. That's why we're trying to cure you!"

"You can try forever, but it'll never work."

"Oh, don't be so negative!"

She smiled big.

"We'll get you fixed soon enough!"

"There's nothing wrong with me. Just because I'm special doesn't mean I'm a danger to anyone."

"Claire. You know we don't use that word around here. Remember—we prefer the term _different_."

Claire's hands formed into a fist and she struggled helplessly against the binds on her wrist and ankles. She couldn't remember the last time she'd been outside; this room, this white room, was the only things she'd seen for months. There was no windows, no air vents. Just a bed with restraints and white sheets on it—and the only other thing there was the door the woman always used to come in here. She explained the first day she was to be her nurse; her caretaker. But she didn't even know her name.

She didn't know anybody's name, or who else was being held here.

All she knew is she was here—that, and only that.

"Here ya go!"

She handed her the five pills in a plastic cup like she did every day at noon.

"When can I eat?"

"You don't need to eat, dear! We have enough people to feed as it is, and since you're invincible, we thought we'd spare the snacks!"

She was smiling, but Claire saw through it.

"You're like a robot."

"Pardon?'

Claire was amused by her confusion.

"Or a child, maybe. You don't know better. You can't understand. So the second something new, something _different_—as you call it—"

She mocked.

"—comes into your life, you lock it away, test it, kill it. Out of sight, out of mind, right? And you say you want us safe, but let's be honest—you think we're mistakes. _Useless. _A waste of space. You want to kill us, and I'm sure the screams coming from next door aren't screams of joy."

"Claire!"

Her exasperated stare didn't touch Claire—not at all.

"You're wrong."

She was quickly putting back all the pills onto the silver cart she always wheeled around with her.

"Stop lying. Just stop. You're abusing us. You're experimenting on us. You're murdering us. We're innocent people that didn't want to be this way—we're afraid of ourselves enough as it is, and now you're trying to tell the rest of the world to fear us to when there's nothing to fear. You're cowards. You're too weak-minded to realize how ridiculous this all is. And you won't win; the bad guys never do. You can kill us all you want, but the truth of the matter is—the minute you die, heaven sure as hell ain't where you're going."

"Miss Bennet!"

She shouted, agitated.

"I'm going to have to ask you to remain silent and take your medicine!"

Claire ignored this and continued.

"You're a murderer. You know it, but you're too afraid to admit it. You're a murderer."  
The woman began walking away with her cart.

"You're a murderer!"

Claire yelled, surprised at all the rage that was boiling to the surface.

"You're all murderers and YOU CAN ALL BURN IN HELL!"  
The door slammed shut and caused Claire to burst into hysterical laughter after a moment of pure silence.

Her gaze drifted to the camera in the corner, the camera that she knew was being used to monitor her every move, her every breath.

"Did you hear that?"

She turned and stared straight into the lens.

"You're fools and one day you're going to die slowly and painfully; although it's more than you deserve. _Murderers._"

She spat the word out with disgust.

"You're all damned murderers."


	2. Chapter One: More Than Anything

Chapter One; More Than Anything

Claire didn't bother to open her eyes as she heard the all too familiar sound of the door opening and a cart being pushed in. She hadn't taken her pills; she'd simply threw them to the floor in a moment of rage, then fell asleep relentlessly waiting for the woman to come back in and force her to take them.

But she never did.

"I'm not going to take you're damned pills if that's what you're here to do. Or have you forgotten my little outburst, as you and your kind call it?"

"Uh…what?"

Her eyes shot open in surprise and she sat up.

"Who are you? Where's um…what's her face? The 'nurse'?"

"She's working with another patient they just found."

Her heart was racing. Another one? There hadn't been a newbie for weeks.

"Who?"

"Does it matter?"

Claire looked over the boy. He was young; sixteen at best. His hair was brown and wavy, and his eyes were strangely beautiful. The nurse's eyes were brown and dull, always seemingly emotionless or unnaturally happy.

But _his _eyes…they were emerald and so full of life, so full of…potential.

"What?"

She realized she'd been staring.

"Are you new here?"

He didn't reply.

"The one they found—a man or woman?"

"I can't tell you that."

"Why?"

"I'm not allowed to give away patient information."

"Just give me a name."

She begged.

"_Please._"

He hesitated, glancing over at the camera.

"Sorry. Can't do that—here."

He handed her that same plastic cup she knew all too well.

"If you don't take these, I'm going to have to force you. And I don't exactly want to."

So she swallowed them down, feeling small under his gaze.

"Now try to control yourself. If you have another little shouting fit, the bosses are going to kill you."

"I can't die."

"Not the point."

"But wait—what bosses? Who are they?"

"I can't tell you."

"Why?"

"I was told not to."

"…why do you listen to them? Surely at least you must see how wrong this is."

"…I'm not replying to that."

"Why not?"

He hesitated.

"Because I don't want to. And they're watching us right now, so…."

"Can I ever see anyone? My friends? My family? Just because I have an ability doesn't mean I don't have feelings."

"Sorry. Orders are all specials are to stay here."

"Until when?"

He shrugged casually.

"I guess the rest of their lives."

He finished putting all the pills back.

"But I'm immortal."

"I don't know then. But I have to go to the Blue Room."

"The Blue Room?"

He ignored her and headed out. He was halfway out the door when she asked:

"Wait—is my regular nurse going to be coming back?"

He shook his head.

"She was assigned to somebody else, so I got assigned to you."

He gave her a smile before disappearing out the door.

She sighed. Although it was nice to see a new, much friendlier face, she still wasn't getting any answers.

And, in some weird, twisted way she missed her nurse. Because she was familiar.

And lately, the unfamiliar has been screwing with her life—if it's even that anymore.

Her life. It seemed like everybody was desperately either trying to control it or end it.

"Great."

Claire muttered under her breath.

She knew she was doomed to forever ask the same old questions and never get any new answers.

And that scared her.

More than anything.


End file.
